Cosmo
March 1st, 2002, 07:28 PM
Okay....me...14....normal kid....or at least looks normal. I have a little story to tell...to share to teens, parents and others.
I guess I have to explain...ever since I as young I could grasp comcepts easily. (No, I'm not bragging..I loved books and loved to learn.) Math was easy. French, almost fluent now. English, waaaay to easy. History, boring but funny to remember. Geography, love it. Science, obsessed with it. You name it...I probably took it and loved it.
My parents were okay before...when I was young..obedient..innocent...wore whatever they wanted me to wear...got high enough grades...spoke politely...walked with dignity, spoke when spoken too, never used the phone...went on Nintendo only for fifteen minutes, went on computer for 20 minutes max a day....t.v. was only two shows a day.....homework had to be finished before 8....sleep at 9. I read books myself...read some books to them....learned to cook. I prayed the prayers with them...went to Church...always did the write-a-prayer-every-Thanksgiving-and-put-it-on-people's-plates-before-dinner-to-read thing.
That was before. When I had no choice BUT to listen to then because I probably didn't have a life or didn't know I could take care of myself. I do now.
But by the time I turned twelve, thirteen, my life changed. First of all, I was starting to grow up. I was less of that little quiet, weak kid that barely could defend himself and had to rely on his brother. I was more...I guess the word is punk-ish. My grade average is still at 89.....but people at school even the bullies, jocks...didn't mess with me. Anyone insults me or friends...I have a comeback like that, in my head, that just comes out with ease. I was a natural at fighting....but I never got in trouble. No one messed with me...no one even harmed ONE HAIR on my friends without getting either embarrassed in front of the whole school or without getting punched after-school. Life was okay..still good grades..but I was less quite.
My parents seemed to notice that saying I talked too much. My voice changed...and I guess that made me sound more of a teenager and less polite than a little four year old with a high-pitched, "Thank you ma'am." My walk...the way I held myself...the way I stood changed. I was more confident...less scared of what people thought of me...I knew that I was the only one I answered to...my parents didn't like that. They thought that I was over-confident. Too aggressive. I didn't like it...but at least that was it to them. Probably just a phase to them and I'd become a five year old again. Right.
Homework was becoming easier and easier. I was getting bored at school....my teachers couldn't spell right sometimes..(Isn't that weird?)....the math was too easy....my english sounded like a dictionary when I wrote an essay or something.....it was becomeing less of my favourite places. I still loved the library however...all those words of wisdom. All those advice...knowledge...jsut ready to be soaked up.
With homework getting easier... I had more time to do other things. I wanted to go out with friends. Hang...stay at the library longer. I went on the computer, nintendo and watched t.v. more. They thought I as starting to become lazy and that I was too young to take care of myself...I didn't know how to take care of myself self at that age they said. They thought that I was still just a kid...that I was naive and little. Hmmmhmmm....again the only thing I say to that is: "RIIIIIIIGHT!"
Books were never a problem. To this day I still read a large amount of books. But the subjects of my books...mt studies were starting to become unnaceptable to my parents. I was taking out "scary" books. The books I took were sometimes PG-13 to R rated. They probably didn't like the fact that I as starting to hear about the world...the I as becoming less innocent...less naive. Also at that time I took out one book on witchcraft.....they threw it out and I paid the library for it...to embarrassed to say my Christian-parents threw it. I just said I lost it.
But now...I'm fourteen. I NEED to go on the phone. I NEED MSN to chat wit my friends. Movies and Nintendo and who's-going-out-wit-who are some immportant basic things a teenager usually needs to know about. I want to talk to my friends. I'm a teenager. I don't just want to drift away not knowing about my friends lives...I don't just wanna be some other loser (I've actually tried to make everyone in the school have at least one friend..I hate it when people are shunned). It's a natural instinct of a human...to be wanted, to be needed...to be with people who you like. I NEED to be connected to others. My friends at this time in my life are the most important thing...especially since we've been together for so long. They're more important than anything.
They can't accept that I'm growing. They don't understand that I need space...that I need to make mistakes and learn from them.
But then again...
When my mother told me she had cancer...I didn't cry...no tears...but no smile either..not even a twitch of the mouth that would form itself into one. When she told me there was a possibility that she would loose all her hair, I just stared, wondering why this had to happen to me. I remember in the hospital rooms, I would just stare at her wondering whether or not I was either cursed or whether this was just another one of those disasters. After her first operation, I remember sitting beside her, singing and holding her hand.
It was then that she put my hand against her cheek, closed her eyes and slept. She recovered from the operation only to be put down again by the chemotherapy. I thought I would hate the day she lost her hair...my beautiful mother, loosing something that was part of her. But I didn't know that her physical self wasn't important and was NOT a part of her. The day she lost all of her hair, it was then that I saw true beauty. I still remember wandering the white, dull halls of the hospital, a lost teen not knowing where life will lead him.
I still don't know what to say. I'm mad, confused, bothered, even annoyed at my parents for not understanding me....but I WOULD never forget the love they have for me and the love I have for them. It's something I would never forgive myself if I forget how much we love each other.
The moral...lesson....experience statement: A family that loves each other...will make an effort stick together no matter the misunderstandings...the problems...the secrets....any obstacle. I'm not saying they will be overcome the obstacle.....and I'm not saying that EVERY famiy loves each other...I'm saying every family SHOULD love each other...and if they truely do...they will try to overcome any obstacle.
Blessed be....
Cosmo-chan
I guess I have to explain...ever since I as young I could grasp comcepts easily. (No, I'm not bragging..I loved books and loved to learn.) Math was easy. French, almost fluent now. English, waaaay to easy. History, boring but funny to remember. Geography, love it. Science, obsessed with it. You name it...I probably took it and loved it.
My parents were okay before...when I was young..obedient..innocent...wore whatever they wanted me to wear...got high enough grades...spoke politely...walked with dignity, spoke when spoken too, never used the phone...went on Nintendo only for fifteen minutes, went on computer for 20 minutes max a day....t.v. was only two shows a day.....homework had to be finished before 8....sleep at 9. I read books myself...read some books to them....learned to cook. I prayed the prayers with them...went to Church...always did the write-a-prayer-every-Thanksgiving-and-put-it-on-people's-plates-before-dinner-to-read thing.
That was before. When I had no choice BUT to listen to then because I probably didn't have a life or didn't know I could take care of myself. I do now.
But by the time I turned twelve, thirteen, my life changed. First of all, I was starting to grow up. I was less of that little quiet, weak kid that barely could defend himself and had to rely on his brother. I was more...I guess the word is punk-ish. My grade average is still at 89.....but people at school even the bullies, jocks...didn't mess with me. Anyone insults me or friends...I have a comeback like that, in my head, that just comes out with ease. I was a natural at fighting....but I never got in trouble. No one messed with me...no one even harmed ONE HAIR on my friends without getting either embarrassed in front of the whole school or without getting punched after-school. Life was okay..still good grades..but I was less quite.
My parents seemed to notice that saying I talked too much. My voice changed...and I guess that made me sound more of a teenager and less polite than a little four year old with a high-pitched, "Thank you ma'am." My walk...the way I held myself...the way I stood changed. I was more confident...less scared of what people thought of me...I knew that I was the only one I answered to...my parents didn't like that. They thought that I was over-confident. Too aggressive. I didn't like it...but at least that was it to them. Probably just a phase to them and I'd become a five year old again. Right.
Homework was becoming easier and easier. I was getting bored at school....my teachers couldn't spell right sometimes..(Isn't that weird?)....the math was too easy....my english sounded like a dictionary when I wrote an essay or something.....it was becomeing less of my favourite places. I still loved the library however...all those words of wisdom. All those advice...knowledge...jsut ready to be soaked up.
With homework getting easier... I had more time to do other things. I wanted to go out with friends. Hang...stay at the library longer. I went on the computer, nintendo and watched t.v. more. They thought I as starting to become lazy and that I was too young to take care of myself...I didn't know how to take care of myself self at that age they said. They thought that I was still just a kid...that I was naive and little. Hmmmhmmm....again the only thing I say to that is: "RIIIIIIIGHT!"
Books were never a problem. To this day I still read a large amount of books. But the subjects of my books...mt studies were starting to become unnaceptable to my parents. I was taking out "scary" books. The books I took were sometimes PG-13 to R rated. They probably didn't like the fact that I as starting to hear about the world...the I as becoming less innocent...less naive. Also at that time I took out one book on witchcraft.....they threw it out and I paid the library for it...to embarrassed to say my Christian-parents threw it. I just said I lost it.
But now...I'm fourteen. I NEED to go on the phone. I NEED MSN to chat wit my friends. Movies and Nintendo and who's-going-out-wit-who are some immportant basic things a teenager usually needs to know about. I want to talk to my friends. I'm a teenager. I don't just want to drift away not knowing about my friends lives...I don't just wanna be some other loser (I've actually tried to make everyone in the school have at least one friend..I hate it when people are shunned). It's a natural instinct of a human...to be wanted, to be needed...to be with people who you like. I NEED to be connected to others. My friends at this time in my life are the most important thing...especially since we've been together for so long. They're more important than anything.
They can't accept that I'm growing. They don't understand that I need space...that I need to make mistakes and learn from them.
But then again...
When my mother told me she had cancer...I didn't cry...no tears...but no smile either..not even a twitch of the mouth that would form itself into one. When she told me there was a possibility that she would loose all her hair, I just stared, wondering why this had to happen to me. I remember in the hospital rooms, I would just stare at her wondering whether or not I was either cursed or whether this was just another one of those disasters. After her first operation, I remember sitting beside her, singing and holding her hand.
It was then that she put my hand against her cheek, closed her eyes and slept. She recovered from the operation only to be put down again by the chemotherapy. I thought I would hate the day she lost her hair...my beautiful mother, loosing something that was part of her. But I didn't know that her physical self wasn't important and was NOT a part of her. The day she lost all of her hair, it was then that I saw true beauty. I still remember wandering the white, dull halls of the hospital, a lost teen not knowing where life will lead him.
I still don't know what to say. I'm mad, confused, bothered, even annoyed at my parents for not understanding me....but I WOULD never forget the love they have for me and the love I have for them. It's something I would never forgive myself if I forget how much we love each other.
The moral...lesson....experience statement: A family that loves each other...will make an effort stick together no matter the misunderstandings...the problems...the secrets....any obstacle. I'm not saying they will be overcome the obstacle.....and I'm not saying that EVERY famiy loves each other...I'm saying every family SHOULD love each other...and if they truely do...they will try to overcome any obstacle.
Blessed be....
Cosmo-chan